


Script

by sonderings (lacunaletters)



Series: Haikyuu!! Moments of Intimacy [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Datekougyou | Date Tech, Fluff, Inarizaki, Karasuno, Romance, Shiratorizawa, can i tag itachiyama and date tech?? i'm only using one character for them...., different kinds of aus?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:16:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27532879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacunaletters/pseuds/sonderings
Summary: Script: dialogue and important conversations(The Moments of Intimacy series is a bunch of drabbles with a specific theme relating to "intimate moments." Basically this is an exploration of the characters as well as an exercise in writing with a range of different scenarios.)
Relationships: Futakuchi Kenji/Reader, Kita Shinsuke/Reader, Miya Osamu/Reader, Ojiro Aran/Reader, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Reader, Shimizu Kiyoko/Reader, Sugawara Koushi/Reader, Tanaka Ryuunosuke/Reader, Tendou Satori/Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader
Series: Haikyuu!! Moments of Intimacy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881790
Kudos: 46





	1. Sakusa Kiyoomi - Lovers to enemies

Everything was fine—in fact, you’d even consider it fun.

Hinata and Kageyama got completely annihilated at beer pong by your hand, Yachi drunk-improvised a very sweet, very cute, very enjoyable slam-poem about her cat to you, and Bokuto was probably going to go viral on tiktok (again) as he continued to do one of his infamous, obtuse flips from places a person could, but should not flip off of for the third— fifth— _who-knows-what-number_ time this evening (Akaashi, in much dedication or in resignation, is lying stomach to the ground on the now sort of crusty carpet of the Miya household—the true MVP or enabler—however you’d like to see it, as the man behind the iphone filming Bokuto vaulting off the kitchen island).

But let’s put the emphasis back on _was_.

Everything was fine, until you happened to make eye contact with _him_ , and he waved at you.

Well, fuck.

You pretend you don’t see it, you wholly ignore him, and when you see in your peripheral view from the teeny corner of your eye that he’s heading in your direction, you scurry your way towards the opposite like a speedy mouse escaping the rake of a farmer.

You get downstairs where it’s much quieter. Not as many people. Atsumu is making out with a very attractive boy in the corner, and it makes you a little jealous. Having someone to kiss who was also very attractive sounded extraordinarily nice right now. 

You don’t really know where to go. You think you might lock yourself in the bathroom—establish the toilet and the bathtub as your own personal hideout and wait it out.

Unfortunately it’s occupied.

“Hey,” a voice which you unhappily know says behind you.

You pretend you don’t hear it, which, of course, doesn’t work as well as pretending you didn’t see him upstairs before because, really, there’s only you two, and again, it’s much quieter.

“Um—what are you doing?” the voice says again.

You could lie and say you’re waiting for the washroom, but something inside you that feels like the monster baby of irritation and discomfort pokes you on your shoulder, growling into your ear to tell the truth. “Give it to him good,” it snickers evilly.

You don’t look at him. You don’t want to give him anything at all.

“I’m avoiding my _ex_ ,” you spit.

You hear him sigh deeply, and you don’t have to see him to guess that he also probably just rolled his eyes.

“I’m right here,” Sakusa says.

You knew you shouldn’t have come here tonight. 

You still don’t look at him. “And from this point on,” you grit your teeth. “What I’ll be doing is _ignoring_ my ex.”

“You don’t even need to use the washroom.”

You ignore him.

“You literally just used it like five minutes ago upstairs.”

You ignore him again.

“I saw you...I—” Sakusa hesitates. “I came to this thing because I heard you were probably going to be here.”

“I want to talk with you.”

You break your ignoring streak to shoot him a glare, but you don’t let your look linger long for long. Your cheeks are burning and it’s not for the reasons they used to. The feeling in your face isn’t like warmth, but more so like hot ashes after wood has been scorched. 

If looks could kill, Sakusa would be ten feet under right now with his engraved tombstone being the cherry on top of his dead corpse and freshly cut flowers for extra garnish. 

You turn away and head back upstairs.

“ _Hey_ —”

You continue stomping up the steps.

“Are you seriously going to keep on ignoring me?”

Uneasy and nosy glances turn towards the both of you when you get to the top. Somebody, probably Hinata, unintelligently gasps out an _Oh no_ , and even though you don’t hear anything from Sakusa anymore, you can feel his presence following behind you as you make your way—you don’t know where, but anywhere away from him.

You do multiplication in your head, cause simply counting numbers probably wouldn’t be enough to distract the seething twist churning in your gut. One times one is one. One times two is two. One times three is _if Sakusa doesn’t leave me the fuck alone right now I_ —

And then he says your name, well—he yells it. 

And you hate it. You hate how this is what stops you in your tracks. You hate how you missed the way your name sounded in his voice. You hate how this is a moment you used to think about far too often, late at night with your face suffocating into your pillows as your heart and mind argued on and on in endless debate and pro/con venn diagrams about whether or not you should just send him one more message—maybe give him another call because _maybe_ this time you’ll get some sort of response.

(You also hate the song playing in the background— _Say So_ by _Doja Cat_. Hasn’t she been cancelled already?)

And then he grabs your wrist, his touch cold and shivering. 

And something in you breaks. 

“ _You_ —” you twist your head back, jerking away from his grasp. It looks like his arm ricochets away from you, and Sakusa flinches at the force.

“ _—what the fuck,”_ you hiss sharply. “ _What the actual fuck_?” 

Your voice is unrecognizable, and now that you’re finally looking at him _—_ him, in all his corporeal realness for the first time after a month, you feel every shard that you’ve had to pick up to piece yourself back together during that time cut into you once more. 

“ _You_ were the one who ignored me first for weeks. Who the fuck leaves a shitty voicemail saying _I’m so sorry_ and then disappears? Who the fuck decides that they’re the end all be all decision maker and that their feelings are the only one that matters so fuck all else? Who the fuck _breaks up_ with somebody like that?”

Your lungs are heaving, out of breath. Your words are running on some internal bottle finally getting the chance to open—a cork popping, its contents spilling forth and bubbling, over-pouring and rocketing up like what happens when mentos collide with coca cola. 

Until it all fizzles out. Now there is a sticky, gross mess to clean up and the container is empty. 

Sakusa just stares at you. Stunned. Not speechless. He holds his tongue—biting down on something he might regret saying—on something that he might regret _not_ saying.

But you’re not done talking yet.

“That’s right... _you_.” And when you say _you_ , Sakusa almost looks like a stranger in your eyes—almost feels like a shadow from your past that is revisiting your present. _Almost_. 

“I didn’t get a say in anything, and you didn’t even want to listen to what I had to say, and now you come back and ask me a month later on _your_ call and ask me if I’m seriously going to keep ignoring you?”

“ _Fuck you_ — _go fuck yourself_. Cause I sure as hell _never_ will again.”

It is not funny, it is not nice, and at this moment, it is not useful how the human body can send signals of distress. Your jaw is trembling, your cheeks are wet and the expression on your face is probably contorted into something you would consider unsightly and vulnerable. _Help me_ , the signals scream. _Help me. I am sad, I am hurt, and I am in pain._

_Help me—Save me. Somebody—_

It is quiet. Your eyes meet Sakusa’s and even through the blur of your tears, you can clearly see him as he takes a step forward.

You shake your head, and take a step back, maintaining the distance between the two of you. 

_No. Not you. Not this time._

You realize you’re by the front door, and without thinking, you leave. It shuts softly behind you, and you don’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: [@aoba-j](https://aoba-j.tumblr.com)


	2. Sakusa Kiyoomi - Resolve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 2ish of Lovers to Enemies. [a little bit of suggestive content in the Addendum]

At some point, you will have to return to the house, for you are phoneless and jacketless and cold.

However, that’ll be a later problem for fifteen-minutes-in-the-future you. In-the-moment you is currently half-jogging down the street away from the party, crying in one moment, still stuck in the aftermath of what felt like a season-finale showdown, and laughing in another moment, thinking about the ridiculousness of it all and tired of the tears.

It’s an attempt to force a shift of pace in your emotions, and why not laugh a little? Later, you were likely to feel even more downright awful about this whole thing, so why not soak in the senseless and unrestrained chuckles for the moment?

A sharp ache pangs in your chest, and a harsh pant wheezes out of you. You clutch on to the cramp in your ribs, and you slow down until you’re speed-walking. Your head pounds quickly with the loud pulse of your heartbeat, and that is all you can hear as you take a few long, deep breaths to center yourself once again.

As you breathe in and out, feeling the bite of the cold and watching the heat of your breath curl into fog, you formulate a plan that includes potentially clambering over the back fence so you wouldn’t enter through the front, and making the first friend you see go on a search inside for your belongings.

Then you’d pack it up and go home. You’d text the twins and tell them your thanks for inviting you while glossing over the details when you’d type about how you had a good, fun time. 

(It probably wouldn’t be until next morning until either of them got back to you anyway, and maybe the next day or so until they heard about the kinda big blowup that took place.)

Your last breath is shaky as you recall what happened once more—what seems like a chunky lump of embarrassment and sprinkles of regret mix together in the gut of your stomach.

Well, it’s been a long night, and at this point, you’d rather that your night be long in the comfort of your bedroom. So with that, you twirl around and head back, determined to execute the plan to get your things back and to avoid Sakusa Kiyoomi while you’re at it.

Funny (not funny) enough, things only half-happen the way you want them to.

When you turn around, you are face to face with your jacket and your phone, and you are also face to face with Sakusa, who is holding your jacket and your phone.

Oh.

You don’t feel the cramp in your ribs anymore. Your heart tightens. Confusion flutters in your brain.There are many things you want to say, and many things you don’t want to say. 

What you end up saying is this.

“Where did you find my phone?” 

Sakusa pauses for a second, either taken aback from your much more emotionless disposition, or trying to remember where exactly was your phone. 

“Yachi was sitting on it—lying on it, more so.”

“Did you lift her up to find it, or…?”

Sakusa shakes his head. “Not me. Hinata.”

“Huh,” you walk forward slowly and cautiously, reaching for your things with wariness and taking extra care to avoid any physical contact with his hands or arms. 

“Well... thanks,” you say under your breath, and you’re sure he hears it too—there’s a crack in your voice and you’re starting to tear up again. It is softer than before, much softer, but it doesn’t make it feel any less bad. It doesn’t make it any less sad.

You don’t care to wipe away the stray tears that drip down your face now, there will only be more to wipe away anyway, and seeing Sakusa again right now has something in your deep unconscious telling you not to touch your face. 

Sakusa hasn’t stopped staring at you. As he shifts his weight from foot to foot, you wonder if maybe he has this secret superpower that sometimes prevents people from moving underneath his gaze. Maybe that’s why you still haven’t budged an inch. Maybe that’s why you haven’t ran off at this point.

“About what happened,” Sakusa starts softly, hesitantly. “Just— _everything_. How it all ended—” he clarifies. “I’m really, really sor—”

“Kiyoomi.”

He stops, the sound of his name loud enough to interrupt him from continuing on, and you let out a sigh. A long, long, sigh. One that releases the rest of the breath you’ve been holding from your lungs.

“It doesn’t matter now.” And it doesn’t. Your words are just quiet enough for him to hear. “It’s fine—it’s whatever—well, it’s _not_ fine, and it’s _not_ whatever, but—

—it’ll be okay, you know?”

You feel the tacky, moist sensation of your half-dried tears as you pull your mouth into the smallest of smiles. Sakusa looks like he’s going to object for just a moment with his mouth slightly open, ready to say something again.

You shake your head, and you see Sakusa’s jaw clench firmly, but the weight of relief does fall on your shoulders when he sighs and nods with understanding.

You both walk back. Sakusa returns to the party, and you head home.

  
  


* * *

_(Addendum)_

There is only the sound of footsteps, until Sakusa breaks the silence between the two of you.

“But just so you know, I didn’t talk to you so I could,” he hesitates for a moment with a hint of sly fondness, “ _fuck_ you.” he bites his lip with a chuckle. “I know you wouldn’t—just so we’re clear about...that.”

You roll your eyes. There is no longer a lump in your throat. “And you know I wouldn’t because…?”

“Because that was what you said before you ran out the door.”

“Well who knows.” you glance to the side and shrug nonchalantly. 

“Maybe if I was sad enough, and wanted to be even more sad, and wanted to see just how sad I could be, maybe I would.” 

Sakusa doesn’t buy it. “Really.”

“Yeah.”

“Really?” He eyes you curiously, uncertain about whether or not you’re actually just playing around now.

“Ask me and you’ll find out,” you say with much seriousness.

“But _I_ don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Cause you’re not sad?”

“No, that’s not—”

“ _Really_.”

“I mean, I uh...”

“You...?”

"..."

“ _Okaydoyouwanttof—_ ”

“Fuck you, Sakusa.”

(Sakusa simply smiles. You let out a laugh, and notice that the tears on your face are dry.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: [@aoba-j](https://aoba-j.tumblr.com)


End file.
